


sweet wine

by peacefrog



Series: Hannibal Cre-ate-ive Events [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drunken Kissing, Episode: s02e13 Mizumono, First Kiss, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 17:49:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7232581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacefrog/pseuds/peacefrog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They finished dinner with a quiet tension sizzling in the air. Hannibal cleared the table and they retired to the study to drink glass after glass of sweet wine that stained their lips and left their heads light and buzzing with static.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sweet wine

“To the truth, then. And all its consequences.”

Will felt he no longer understood the definition of truth, but consequences he understood uncomfortably well. Someone would always pay the toll. Someone would always bleed.

They finished dinner with a quiet tension sizzling in the air. Hannibal cleared the table and they retired to the study to drink glass after glass of sweet wine that stained their lips and left their heads light and buzzing with static.

Will staggered about the room on legs that felt near boneless. He dragged his fingers along the spines of Hannibal’s books and stopped when he reached the end of the row. He pulled from the shelf a thin, weathered hardback, the pages yellowing and cracked with the memory of so many passing years.

“Among the most powerful and timeless of the Greek tragedies,” Hannibal approached from behind, his soft voice echoing like firelight in the shadows. “Medea was driven to the unthinkable by the betrayal of her beloved.”

Will’s throat clenched as he pushed the book back into place. He lifted his eyes to Hannibal’s face. His lips twitched to speak but no words came flowing out.

Hannibal backed Will against the shelf and caged him in with his arms. “May I kiss you?” The question carried with it the sharp edge of a goodbye. Will had never seen such a look in his eyes. They appeared brimming with life, yet choked and long past dead.

Will's tongue darted out to wet his wine-sweet lips. “Yes,” he croaked, body singing with electric charge.

Hannibal’s fingers threaded in Will’s hair and dragged across his face, their lips slotting together like the last remaining pieces of some impossible puzzle. It was tender and soft and left Will feeling quite like breaking in two.

Deepening the kiss, Hannibal pressed Will back against the bookshelf, framing his face with the searing warmth of his hands, nudging against his thighs until they parted like a drawing compass. Hannibal licked against the seam of Will’s lips. Will allowed himself to be taken apart, allowed the light spilling from his mouth to be swallowed down whole.

“Is this what you want from me?” Will’s voice cracked as his lips broke away.

Hannibal breathed hot against his mouth. “No,” he said. “If only all of this were as simple as two bodies crashing together in the dark.”

Somewhere between their tongues dragging together and Hannibal pulling Will flush against his chest they wound up on the floor, Will straddling Hannibal’s thigh, Hannibal gripping Will’s hips and pulling him down so they could rut together like lust-stricken beasts.

Will felt himself growing hard, right on the edge of no return, his wine-drunk mind making one last desperate grab for the solid ground of reality. “No,” he pried himself away, panting. “No… I can’t.”

Hannibal gazed up at him, eyes dark and chest heaving for air. He gave Will a single nod of understanding before Will pulled away, staggering up to unsteady feet.

“I should go,” Will said, face flushed and burning hot. Hannibal’s slacks tented out obscenely in the front. Will forced himself to tear his eyes away.

“You’re in no condition to drive. Take the guest room for tonight.”

They straightened their clothes and their hair and forced their bodies to settle. Hannibal led Will up the stairs and to the guest bedroom at the end of the hall. He left Will sitting on the edge of the bed while he fetched a pair of his own pajamas for Will to change into.

“These should do for tonight,” Hannibal said, handing over a stack of the softest navy blue cotton Will had ever felt against his skin.

“Thank you.”

As Hannibal turned to leave Will caught him by the hand. He stood and pulled Hannibal in, brushing a strand of straying hair out of his face. The kiss tasted like the pitiful ghost of an apology, one uttered long past the time it would make any difference at all. There was no more sugared-sweetness pouring from Hannibal’s tongue.

“Goodnight,” Will whispered against Hannibal’s lips, fingers trembling against his cheek.

“Goodnight, Will.”

Hannibal padded from the room with the door clicking shut behind. Will crawled into the bed that didn’t smell like home or Hannibal or any place familiar at all. The sheets felt far too clean to lie against Will’s aching, squalid skin.

He tore his clothes off and pulled the pajamas on without ever getting back up to his feet. It was awkward and undignified but Will feared he would collapse if he were forced to stand for even a moment longer. He pulled the cuff of the pajama sleeve to his nose and breathed it in. It smelled as Hannibal so often did in the early morning hours, whispers of lavender and bright blooming flowers awaiting their inevitable decay.

Falling down against the mound of pillows Will pushed his borrowed pants back down around his thighs. He licked his lips and swallowed deep, chasing Hannibal’s ghost across his tongue. He stroked himself to a broken release, a shout trapped tight inside his mouth, catching most of his mess in the palm of his hand. He wondered if down the hall Hannibal were doing the very same.

He cleaned himself with tissues from the nightstand drawer and clicked off the bedside lamp. Swallowed by the melting dark, his only company the gentle pull of his lungs and the steady tick of his heart, Will feared the dawn as surely as he had always feared his own hellish dreams.

He licked his lips again, tasting nothing but the bitterness pouring from his own sorrowful lungs. 

The very next night, as Will stood shocked and frozen in Hannibal’s kitchen, he was certain for a moment that their lips would come crashing together. The blade piercing into him felt inevitable, the backhand of wine-stained regret. He wondered if the blood that painted his shoes tasted just as sweet as Hannibal had against his tongue.

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently I'm on a season 2 angst binge lately and I do apologize. Also apparently when my brain hears "write a ficlet that is 1000 words or less" it insists upon being exactly 1000 words like some mega-drabble challenge. Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed wallowing in this pain with me, maybe I'll write something fluffy next to try and make up for it. :P
> 
> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://crossroadscastiel.tumblr.com)!


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